Tea, Chapter two
by DaviiLovey55
Summary: So sorry for not posting this as a new chapter in Tea, but my computer is being weird. So here is chapter two of Tea! please leave me a comment to tell me how I'm doing, and how the story was! Ch 3 on the way


((Thank you all for reading! Gah! Alrightie then, here is part two of Tea, as requested :D))

Their arms linked tightly, Sherlock and Molly headed out of the building and onto the busy London streets. It was bitterly cold outside, a biting wind cutting straight through Molly's thin jacket. Sherlock looked down in mild concern.

"Are you cold?" he asked as they walked to the curb of the street. Molly looked up and smiled shyly.

"Not really, it's just a little chilly out" she replied. But even as she said that, she felt him press a little closer into her side as he stuck out his long arm and hailed down the nearest cab. The cab trundled to a stop in front of them. Sherlock stepped out in front of Molly before she could move, and swiftly opened the door for smiled at him as she gratefully climbed inside of the warm cab.

Sherlock climbed in and leaned forward towards the cabbie. "Where you two headed?" the cabbie asked genially.

"Just to the Cafe on Burbank road." Sherlock said, leaning back into the seat and fixing the collar on his coat. Molly looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed a little tense, almost nervous to be in the cab with her. Maybe he didn't really want to be here? She shifted in her seat. Why _had _he asked her to tea? Probably only because he wanted something from her. He barely even noticed her, let alone ask her out for tea.

A heavy silence filled the cab. After an uncomfortable minute, the cabbie cleared his throat and spoke. "So. Geing to a cafe at one in the morning? What's the occasion?"

Molly turned slightly to look at Sherlock. He was looking out the window, his brow furrowed in thought. It seemed as theough he was not going to answer, so she turned back to the front to address the cabbie herself. "No occasion, we were just working late and wanted some late night tea." Somehow, she felt a little scared to say that he had asked her. The cabbie smiled in the rearview mirror at her.

"First date?" He asked conspiriatorally. Molly opened her mouth, about to say something nice and meaningless. The she realized what the cabbie ad called it. A _date._

The cabbie chuckled a little at her expression. "Don't worry, love." He said gently. I only knows that because I seen a lot of people come and go in my cab. I've learned what people are like." He tapped the side of his nose knowingly. Sherlock broke his gaze out the window to look at the cabbie. His "thinking look" was gone, replaced by a his usual stony look. But there was almost a hint of confusion mixed in.

"How could you have known that?" Sherlock asked. For once, he seemed almost genuinely confused that someone had figured something out in almost the same manner as he did so often. The cabbie looked back at him through the rearview mirror.

"Well, you two are more than a bit nervous, and it's one in the morning. What else could you two have been doing?" the cabbie explained, almost like it was plainly obvious. The more Molly thought about it, the more it made sense. She was on a _date _with _Sherlock Holmes._ She had thought about this a lot ever since she had met him, but had almost forgotten about her dreams when she had thought that he paid no attention to her. Now her dreams were finally becoming a reality. Not quite in the flowery, romantic way she had thought up, but it was a date nonetheless.

The cab finally pulled up in front of the Cafe DeLange. Sherlock quickly paid the cab driver, and practically jumped out of the cab. "Thank you" Molly said quickly to the driver before she climbed out.

The cabbie smiled. "No problem, love. And hey, don't be worried about tonight. That chap likes you, I can tell." He smiled and gave her a friendly wink before he sped off into the night.

Sherlock was waiting for her on the curb, his dark curls framing his angular face. Once Molly had reached where he was, he swiftly turned aorund and headed towards the door of the small, warm cafe. He held the door open for her, for once being the perfect gentleman. He half-smiled at her again when she passed him, closing the glass door behind her softly. The cafe was nearly empty, populated by only a couple of late workers like them and a few half dead students working busily on their laptops in dark corners, their earbuds jammed tightly in.

They chose a small booth next to the window. Sherlock sat across from Molly, his tall, pale frame towering over the table. Molly was suddenly struck by how completely opposite they were. She was wearing a light purple jacket, with her light brown hair still pulled back in the ponytail she wore for work. There was a small flower clip on the side of her head, just something she had found in her flat while she was cleaning. She had on a nice, sensible pair of brown shoes, and a pair of plain khaki pants. She was all soft lines and pastel colors. Sherlock, on the other hand, was tall; dark. All sharp angles and planes. His pale face contrasted with the mess of dark curly hair and his long black coat, which he was now taking off and setting beside him. His purple shirt was crisp and pressed, with no wrinkles or soft lines anywhere. His bright, deep-set blue eyes were darting around the cafe, taking everything in at lightning speed. What an odd couple they have seemed to the rest of the late night customers.

Sherlock stopped his eyes from wandering, almost with some difficulty, and focused back on her. He stared at her intensely from across the table, and awkwardly folded his hands in his lap, not seeming to know what to do. They sat there for a moment more, both of them trying to stay outwardly calm, both of them frantically trying to think of something to say to the other.

"So why did you-"

"What do you think that-"

They both spoke at the same time, their words tumbling out of their mouths. Sherlock and Molly looked at each other for a moment, and then both suddenly started to giggle a bit. Sherlock smiled and spoke again. "Ladies first" he said, gesturing with his long fingers towards Molly. She blushed a bit and began again.

"Well, I what I was going to ask you was why did you ask me out tonight? Why not any other night?" She looked away, embarassed at what she had just asked. When her eyes traveled back up, they met Sherlock's gaze.

"I don't really know." he replied after a moment's thought. "I just thought that you looked tired, and needed a drink. Of tea." He added quickly. "Not that I think you need a drink." He fumbled a bit, looking a little uncomfortable. "And you look fine. Nice. Yes." He fell silent, seeming to run out of things to say. An unusual thing for Sherlock Holmes, who never ran out of clever comebacks and sarcastic little quips.

Molly was a bit taken aback. Had he just said something nice to her? _And you look fine. Nice. Yes. _Through all the awkwardness of the half-sentence, Molly thought she detected a bit of a sincere compliment that; for once; wasn't inteded as a throwaway thing to say or something sarcastic. At this thought, Molly got embarassed all over again and looked away, trying to supress her enormous grin. "Thank you, Sherlock. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." She looked back over at Sherlock. He seemed proud of himself, like he had been saving that one compliment for a while, and had been waiting for that moment. He sat a little taller in the booth, his half-smile turning into a full fledged grin of delight.

"Thank you, Molly. John taught me that one." Molly's smile faltered a bit, and she internally sighed. John again.

Just then, a slightly plump, older woman came bustling over to them. "Hello dears" she said with a bright pink lipsticked smile. "Is there anything that I can get for you two? Coffee? Tea? There's pastries too, half off if you want any." She rattled this off like she said it one thousand times a day. She probably did. She took out a pen and a small notepad. "Will you want to order now, or do you need more time?" Her smile seemed a bit forced, like she wanted nothing more than to go in the back and have her third smoke break since her shift started.

"Earl grey for me, please." Sherlock said. The waitress scribbled down his order. She looked expectantly at Molly.

"Chamomile, if you have any." Molly said witha small smile. The waitress grinned back at her with her too-bright lips.

"That will be coming right out for you two, okay? And when youre done just come right up to the counter and you can pay there, okay?" And without waiting for their reply, she bustled off again, leaving Sherlock and Molly to their own devices of conversation again.

"So" Molly said. "This place is lovely. How do you know about it?" The cafe wasn't really all that great, but she felt she needed to start up another conversation before he thought she was boring and plain. Sherlock looked back at her.

"John and I came here once after we solved a case. I thought you might like it." He replied flatly. Molly's confidence crumbled a little but more at the mention of Sherlock's flatmate. There had always been talk around the station, that Sherlock and John were on their way to becoming more than just flatmates. Molly thought she could now see why.

"Do you and John have something going?" Molly asked suddenly. Right after she said it, she wished she hadn't. Sherlock's head tilted slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked a little hurt that she had said this. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. "Oh. Oh I am so... Oh god. I'm so sorry. I didnt mean... I didn't... I don't know why I said that. I'm so sorry. Again." She got up from her seat. "I'll be going now. Thanks for the tea. " She started to leave, too embarassed to look him in the face.

"Wait."

A hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. Sherlock was holding on to her, not tight enough to hurt her but tight enough so she couldn't get away without making a big scene.

"It's okay. Please, sit down. Our tea hasn't even arrived yet."

His tone was calm and forgiving. She looked back at him. Even though he didn't say it out loud, his eyes seemed to beg her to sit back down, not to leave. She breathed in and turned back around to slide back into the booth. Sherlock leaned in closer to her across the table.

"I sort of... understand why you think John and I would have a... relationship. But I like you, Molly Hooper. I asked you out on this... this date... because I wanted to, not just because you looked like you needed some tea. But you look fine. Anyway, I just had to get that out there." He took a deep breath after he said this, like he hadn't expected to say this.

Molly stared at him open-mouthed. She hadn't expected him to say that either.

"I... I like you too, Sherlock." She stuttered out nervously to her lap. When she looked back up at him again, he looked so happy and relieved that she had to smile as well. Just then, their tea arrived. They had a nice night after that, and when they had paid at the counter, Sherlock offered to walk Molly to her flat, sincce it was not that far away from here. So they set out again onto the now not so busy streets of London, their jackets wrapped tightly around them and their arms closely linked.

Nothing happened to them on their short walk to her front door.

"I had a really nice time tonight." Molly said with a smile. "Thank you for taking me out to tea, I really did need it." They laughed then, but it was mroe of a short giggle, since they were both very tired after being out until nearly two in the morning.

"I had a nice time as well." Sherlock replied with a smile. He leaned down suddenly and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He awkwardly smiled at her again, and back away a bit. "Well, goodnight." He said with a smile, and turned to leave.

"Goodnight" Molly called after his back, watching him walk away under the pools of elecrtic light cast by the lamps that lined her street. She turned back to her door, and unlocked it with a click.

Inside, her house was dark. She set down her keys on the little shelf with the mirror in her hallway. She took out her ponytail, shaking out her mid-length brown hair. She looked up in the mirror as she was taking off her jacket. And froze.

"Oh hello, Molly Hooper." A lazy Irish drawl sounded from behind her. In the mirror, she could barely make out the figure of a strange man standing behind her in the adjacent hallway that led to her bedroom. "So you're Sherlock's new little girlfriend? Hm. How cute. Not really the type of girl you would expect for him, now is it? Well, we'll see how much he really likes you when you wake up, won't we?" The Irish voice sounded closer, and the shadow of the man moved closer to her. He chuckled then, a mocking laugh that sent a chill through her. "I would suggest you not struggle, Molly. It would make things so much easier for the both of us." She opened her mouth to scream, but she never made a sound. A rag, neatly folded, was pressed tightly against her nose and mouth. She tried to gasp in air as the man laughed softly again, and she knew it was too late for her.

"Sleep tight now." the man said as she fell into a dreamless sleep. "Let's hope he will come save you now, yes?"

Molly tried to hold on to conciousness as long as possible. "Sher...lock." She said. She suddenly slumped. She was out before she hit the floor.

((I hope you all liked it! The final part, part three is coming soon. It might be tomorrow or a week from now, depending on whether or not I have time. Thank you so much again for reading!))


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